


Through Her Eyes

by SOFreddie



Category: Supernatural
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Language, reader POV
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-27
Updated: 2018-10-27
Packaged: 2019-08-08 04:11:47
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,816
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16422167
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SOFreddie/pseuds/SOFreddie
Summary: Y/N thinks over her relationship with Dean.





	Through Her Eyes

**Author's Note:**

> Written completely from Reader POV, inside her head. I haven’t written in quite a while. I sat at the PC and just made myself write something. The following is what came of that. Please let me know what you think. As I said, I haven’t written in a while. Your feedback helps me so much to try and provide you the best of my writing. Oh, and please let me know if you would like to be added or removed from my tag lists. I’ll post the lists soon to verify. Unbeta’d, so all mistakes are my own. Thanks!

If you had asked me five years ago where I thought I’d be today, my current life never would have been a blip on my radar. For all intents and purposes, I lived a normal life. I worked a dead-end job, making enough to pay the bills to support a life going nowhere. I was alone in the world. My family was scattered across the globe and our communication was sparse at best. We were all just living day in and day out, doing our monotonous routines, without a single thought to what else there might be. Drones. But then it all changed. **  
**

I’ll never forget that day, as long as I live. The day I was assaulted. The day I nearly died. The day I met Sam and Dean Winchester as they rescued me from certain death at the hands of sadistic vampires ravishing my town. Castiel had healed me. In doing so, he saw my life, who I was. In a moment of human understanding, he pitied me. Unbeknownst to me at the time, he revealed what he knew to the brothers. It was Sam who insisted on bringing me to live with them at the bunker. Dean, on the other hand, had adamantly protested against it. I laugh now thinking of it. But at the time, it hurt, for reasons I didn’t really understand. In the end, however, Sam and Cas convinced Dean and I’ve been living with them ever since.

It was strange and off-putting at first, the world of the supernatural. I had read my fair share of fictional stories and seen movies portraying monsters and the paranormal. But I never imagined it could be real. As I devoured all I could from the library and bunker archives, I quickly learned that fiction and fantasy had it all wrong. To be honest, I was terrified. The more I learned, the more afraid I became of living in the world at large. Those first few months I rarely left the bunker and dedicated myself only to learning. I was obsessed, I had to know. I guess I figured the more I knew, the better chance of survival I had. I was always one to constantly learn and research things I didn’t know. Now, I had a whole new world to discover.

After a time, I was able to help the self-proclaimed Team Free Will with my knowledge. Ha, I still find the moniker amusing and ironic considering most everything they do is of forced hand. Because of my reclusive state, I became a most valued resource. Before long, I sat in on table meetings, took phone calls, and provided whatever information I could to assist in hunts. The proverbial “man in the chair” sidekick to the “superheroes”. Truth be told, I loved it. I felt like I was exactly where I should be and, without putting myself in direct danger, I made a difference.

I grew close with them all, as one surely must when you’re bound by home and mission. Most surprising to us all, I especially was the fact that Dean and I became the best of friends. It happened slowly, to be sure. We hated each other initially. I couldn’t stand the sight of him. Well, I could look at him, of course. What’s not to admire there? But other than some tasty eye candy, I really wanted nothing to do with him. He was either childish or militarian. He was one extreme or the other. He was a philanderer, a womanizer I was sure. Everything about the man rubbed me the wrong way, so I avoided him as much as possible. But time has a way of changing everything. Through nights of light-hearted drinking and sharing, days of fighting and screaming, and times of caring for one another through sickness or injury, we changed. I understood him better as a person, the deepness of his spirit. I grew to hold him in the highest regard, as he did I.

Five years I have lived with them, stood by them, helped and guided them. We’re a family. And Dean…he’s the single most important person in my whole world and I am grateful and honored to have him in my life. I’d never do anything to damage that relationship. Oh, I’ve thought about him in other ways. How could I not? I’ve dreamed of being his partner in every way. But that’s not the life we live. That’s not an option that lies in the cards for us. I know he feels it too. The lingering glances, occasional touches, and grazes. But it never goes beyond a hug or comforting embrace. We fell asleep together once, after a night of long talks and camaraderie. When we woke, our limbs completely tangled within one another, the sparks were alive. You could practically see them flying through the air like a Tesla coil. We might have kissed at that moment too. Except Sam had woken, his footsteps heard approaching, causing us to jolt, and I to fall off the couch to the floor. Since that moment, we both knew a silent acknowledgment. But we never spoke of it, never acted on it, and never allowed ourselves in that position again. I think we’re both afraid. But there’s too much at stake to risk it.

It’s been six months since that day. Although nothing changed between us, we both ceased in pursuing other people in any capacity. Again, no spoken arrangements. We just…couldn’t, I suppose. Oh, it makes for some painful nights when all you need is another’s embrace or some tension relief. But for whatever reason, it just feels…wrong, to be with anyone else. I wonder often when they’re away on hunts if Dean has been active. Whenever they return, without a word, Sam looks me dead in the eye and shakes his head. His way of letting me know that the stalemate still stands. Why do we do this to each other?

A creak and a slam. They’ve returned from the hunt. Shit. I hurriedly hide my journal back among the library books. I don’t want them knowing all the things I write and say. No good could come of it, I’m sure. It helps me process everything. A friend I can talk to who keeps all my secrets. They’re coming. Shit. I sit back at the table and reopen the lore book I was reading before my little break. I look up to see Sam first, as usual. I meet his gaze and he gives me the shake once more - stalemate. But his gaze is heavy and lingering. Something’s wrong. Dean comes in behind him and I can’t help the stutter I feel in my chest. He looks good, better than good actually. But…why is he staring? His eyes are locked on me and I can’t read him. What’s going on?

“Sam,” Dean breaks the silence, but his eyes never leave me. I’m stuck in place, standing next to my chair. I can’t breathe. What’s happening? “Can you drop this in my room?” Why…why is he asking Sam to take his bag? I see Sam give me another long, hard look before taking the bag and walking down the hallway. I look back to Dean, standing ten feet away. Still, his eyes haven’t shifted. I’m not sure he’s blinked. I can’t read him…I think I’m about to have a panic attack.

“Dean? Is everything ok?” Oh please…please, Chuck, if you can hear me…don’t let it be bad news. I’m scared. Scared in a way I can’t remember being before. He’s moving now, that slow, sexy saunter that melts me inside. Like a predator stalking its prey. He’s three feet away now. His gaze, it’s too intense.

“It was a Djinn.” The gravel of his tone makes my knees weak. A Djinn? Not what we thought. I hope it didn’t… “He got me.” Oh, Chuck! So that’s what happened. I wonder what he saw. I swallow hard, trying to level myself.

“You seem ok. Did…I mean, you got out. So that’s good, right?” Suddenly I can’t speak. That’s just great. I wonder if it was like before. The beer model, the simple life. He deserves it and more. The silence is too loud, too long. Every passing second seems like an eternity.

“Marry me.”

Did my brain just short out? Did he just….

“Marry you?”

“Marry me.” He’s closer now. His hand caresses my cheek, gently brushes my hair over my shoulder and comes to rest on my arm. I can’t hide the chill and resulting goosebumps that raise on my skin at his touch. “Marry me, Y/N.” **  
**

Is he… “Are you joking?”

“Why would I joke about that?” He’s hurt. Subtle, but there.

“Marry you? Dean..what…we’re friends…”

“Best friends.”

“Best friends, yes. But friends. I mean, we’ve never dated…”

“Then let’s go out.”

I pull away, backing up a little. He’s matching my stride, staying in my space. “We’ve never had sex.”

“I plan on fixing that.” He’s smirking, the bastard. I can’t help the smirk on my own face.

“We’ve never even kissed.”

He lunges for me and - Oh sweet Jesus - his lips. They’re soft and warm and they fit mine with such ease. My heart is in my throat and I can’t feel my toes. His arms are strong and wrapped around me, fitting the curves of my sides. He’s holding me to him and thank Chuck because I can’t feel anything but his touch and I think I might collapse if he weren’t holding me. Fred Astaire and Greta Garbo dance through my brain and - Heaven, I’m in Heaven - the song plays in the back of my mind and I’m swimming. I’m sure I’m floating, lost in all that is him. I open my mouth slightly to take a breath and his tongue caresses my lips before tasting my own. Sparks - they shoot straight through me and a waterfall has opened below. He’s pulled back an inch. I can feel his breath on my face but I can’t yet open my eyes. I’m trying and - there we go - oh Lord! His eyes are so green and filled with emotion. He’s waiting…waiting for me to answer and I’ve forgotten what words are.

“Yes.” I think I spoke, but I could barely hear my own voice over my heartbeat pounding in my ears.

“Yes?” His voice is like honey as it washes over me. His mouth is twitching at the start of a smile and I can’t help but smile back.

“Yes.” There’s my voice, I found it. A single syllable is all I can muster, but it’s enough. “Yes, Dean. Yes.”

He kisses me again and nothing else matters. He’s more passionate, holding me tighter and suddenly everything clicks into place. Right here…I’m home.


End file.
